


The Fucker

by Ishxallxgood



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Spacedogs - Fandom
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, darko's a good friend, he's not really a raccoon expert, nigel raccoon expert, raccoon adoptions, the things this man does for love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 05:53:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15835089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishxallxgood/pseuds/Ishxallxgood
Summary: Adam comes to Nigel for help with an injured raccoon.  Naturally, Nigel helps Adam.  And ends up adopting a raccoon.Inspired by the fact that you google raccoons one time for a fic and Google decides that you need ALL the articles on why you shouldn't bring a raccoon into your home (spoiler: rabies) and how naturally that results in a fic about Nigel adopting a raccoon.





	The Fucker

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank the lovely [Devereauxs_Disease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease) for being my enabler and encouraging me to write all the things.
> 
> Thank you [justlikeyouimagined](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeyouimagined/works) for beta'ing

Nigel had just fallen into bed, head swimming in booze and coming down from a coke high when the rapping on his door started. He had half a mind to grab his pistol and shove it down the throat of the asshole knocking on his door at half past three in the morning, but even in his drunken, half coked out state, he recognized the cadence of that knock.  Begrudgingly, he rolled out of bed and swiped a hand through his hair to tame it, before pulling open the door.

“Nigel!”

Frantic blue eyes darted around him, the hand that was raised mid knock fell to the side.  Nigel leaned heavily against the door frame, fighting the urge to regurgitate. “What can I do you for, gorgeous?”

Taking a deep breath, Adam gingerly placed the case for his telescope down onto the ground before regarding Nigel again.  “A coyote.”

“A coyote?” Nigel asked, sobering up a little.  He will go out there and punch a mother fucking coytoe in the face if Adam was injured.  A cursory look over Adam told him that no, his gorgeous neighbor, love of his life- even if he had yet to profess it- was in fact _not_ attacked by a coyote.

“Yes.  A coyote.”

“What about a coyote, darling?”

“I need your help.”

“With a coyote.”

“No, with a raccoon.”

“A coyote raccoon?”

“No, not a coyote raccoon.” Adam let out an exasperated sigh, fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh.  “There’s no such thing as a coyote raccoon, Nigel.”

“Are you sure, gorgeous? Because I’ve heard of platypus bears,” Nigel deadpanned.

“There are no such things as platypus bears, either.  A coyote attacked a raccoon, and since you seem to know a lot about treating lacerations I thought that maybe you can help me save the raccoon.”

Nigel was tempted to point out the fact that platypus bears do in fact exist, albeit in a fictional universe, but the distress coming off Adam in waves stayed his tongue.  There was time to argue the validity of fictional animals later; evidently in the present, he had a lacerated raccoon to save.

“Lead the way, gorgeous,” Nigel said stumbling to grab his coat, pulling his smokes from his pocket.

Nodding, Adam paused for a moment, eyes sweeping from Nigel’s door down to the telescope by his feet, then back up toward Nigel again.  Catching his drift, Nigel picked up the case and set it just inside his apartment before pulling the door shut.

“You know, you could have just called animal control,” Nigel said, as they made their way down to the park.

“Animal control would just put the raccoon down.”

“And we can’t have that now, can we?”

“No, it would be best if the raccoon didn’t die.” A coyote howled in the distance, causing Adam’s eyes to dart around wildly before he picked up his pace.

Nigel stumbled after Adam, willing his feet to work and for his mouth to not ask Adam if he was sure the coyotes hadn’t already made a meal of the raccoon yet.  Even in his inebriated state, he had every confidence that if Adam had felt it was safe enough to run back to the apartment and ask Nigel for help with the raccoon, that Adam had secured the fucker before running off.

Nigel blinked and the next thing he knew, an injured raccoon was bundled in his jacket, hissing at him and Adam's hand was on his elbow, guiding them back to the apartment. Nigel hissed back at the fucker, poking it so it would settle down a little, when a sudden surge of emotion washed over him.  The poor fucker got its ear half torn off and a deep gash in its side where the coyote had got it. It was still alive though.  A fucking fighter.  Nigel chuckled as the fucker huffed in his arms, pawing at the jacket as it pressed its wounded side against it. They were kindred spirits; Nigel could tell and he couldn’t help but wonder if he would be hearing the gentle swell of a cello soon.

“Can you help it?”  Adam asked as he turned the key to the apartment door and kicked it open.  

“Sure, darling,” Nigel lied, the apprehension in Adam’s voice making him want to say yes.  “Just call me Nigel Lupei, raccoon expert.”

“But you’re not actually a raccoon expert, are you Nigel?”

“I’m not certified or anything, but I sure as fuck know a fuckton about raccoons.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Adam said bending down to collect his telescope.  “I would stay and help, but it’s an hour past the time I should have gone to bed already.  I’m sorry, but I can check back with you later, make sure everything's okay.”

“Sure, darling.  Don't worry your pretty little head, I got this,” Nigel said with a reassuring smile.  “You have a good night, gorgeous.”

Adam smiled back and nodded.  “Good night, Nigel. Thank you.”

Dropping the jacket - with raccoon in tow - down into the sink, Nigel ran a hand across his face.  Fuck, the things he would do just to have that smile directed at him again. Adam fucking Raki.  Nigel would move heaven and earth to see that man smile.  But what the fuck was he supposed to do now?  He didn’t know jack shit about raccoons, yet he’d be damned before he let the fucker die on him. Lighting another cigarette, he contemplated his options as the nicotine ran its course through his veins, helping him clear his head.

Twenty minutes later, Nigel found himself sober and in a shouting match with Darko.  By the time he ended the call, he was wearing a triumphant smile, having finally extracted a promise from Darko that he would be by in a hour with a certified veterinarian. Now, all he had to do was keep the fucker alive for the next hour.

In the next hour, Nigel learned first hand just how much of a fucking kindred spirit the fucker was.  By the time he opened the door for Darko, his arm was bleeding profusely and the fucker was growling at him from inside the kitchen sink, Nigel's blood dripping down its snout and all over its paws.  But, the fucker was still alive, and that was all that really mattered.

“You should get that taken care of.”

Nigel fought the urge to punch the woman- who he presumed was the veterinarian- in the face.  He needed her to fix the fucker in his sink, and attacking the person who was willing to drag themselves out of bed and into his apartment at the crack of dawn to fix a fucking raccoon, was probably not the smart thing to do.

Suppressing a growl, Nigel peeled the tattered shirt off his body and tossed it on the floor before disappearing into his bedroom.  By the time he managed to stitch up his arm and dress it properly, he was thoroughly exhausted. Returning to the living room, he found the fucker asleep and bundled up in his discarded shirt, snug in a box by the foot of the couch.

“Thank you,” Nigel said, stifling a yawn.

“You’re welcome,” the helpful veterinarian replied, packing up the last of her things.  “You should probably still get that bite checked out.”

“Duly noted.”

“You’re a fucking mess, brother.” Darko said, following the veterinarian to the door.  “All this for that piece of ass next door.”

“You don’t talk about Adam Raki like that, motherfucker,” Nigel snapped, “Adam’s husband material.  So much more than just a piece of ass.”

“Whatever you say, brother.”

Slamming the door on Darko and the veterinarian, Nigel cracked open a beer and collapsed onto the couch.  What a fucking disaster of a night. Yet, if he was asked to do it all over again, he would. In a heartbeat.  Just because Adam Raki had asked.

Setting the beer aside he let out another yawn and managed to finally close his eyes.  Just as he was about to drift off, sharp claws dug into his side and the fucker pulled itself up, nestling into his chest with a soft purr.  With a sigh, Nigel brought a hand up and gently stroked the fucker’s fur before falling unconscious.

When Nigel woke next, it was to the fucker clawing at him trying to get his attention.  That rapping on his door was back again, the precise cadence of it screaming Adam. Gently brushing the fucker off of him, Nigel came to a stand and stretched.  It was too early for this shit, but it was Adam. He would gladly go to hell and back for that man. Taking a swig of stale beer to wash the taste of sleep out of his mouth, Nigel smoothed down his clothes before swinging the door open.

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

“It’s afternoon, Nigel.” Adam said with a bright smile and an offering of coffee.  “How's the raccoon?”

“The fucker lives.” As if to prove his point, the fucker poked its furry little head between Nigel's legs and blinked up at Adam.

Handing Nigel the mug of coffee, Adam dropped to a crouch and regarded the fucker. Letting out a yawn, the fucker continued to stare back at Adam, tail flicking slightly before reaching out a paw to grab at Adam with more grace and tenderness than it had shown Nigel all night.

Before it could make contact, Nigel quickly downed the coffee and grabbed the fucker by its scruff, hauling it up into his arms. “Don't touch Adam with your rabid paws, you fucker,” Nigel scolded, and the fucker hissed at him, swiping unsuccessfully at his face.

“Rabies are transmitted through the saliva of an actual rabid animal shedding the virus, Nigel.” Adam said, reaching out a hand to stroke the back of the fucker's head.  Shifting in his arms, the traitorous fucker rolled over to expose his stomach for Adam to scratch.

“Who’s the raccoon expert here, darling?”

With a laugh, Adam withdrew his hand and for a second, brilliant blue eyes made contact with Nigel’s.  “Clearly, not you.”

“Are you sassing me, Adam Raki?” Nigel asked, handing Adam back the empty mug so he could pull a cigarette out.

“Of course not, Nigel,” Adam replied with a cheeky grin.  “All I’m saying is, a rabid raccoon would be exhibiting certain signs, that and it would be dead within ten days.”

Nigel frowned.  He was already quite attached to the fucker, and the last thing he wanted was for it to die from rabies.  “Well fuck. Considering the fucker was bitten by a coyote, there is a probability it could have contracted rabies.” Nigel said, taking a long drag of his cigarette, turning his head to exhale into the apartment, away from Adam’s face.

“That would be rather unfortunate.” Adam frowned, eyes flitting between Nigel and the fucker in his arms.  “You should probably get your arm looked at then, if rabies is a real concern.”

“No need,” Nigel said, taking another drag of his cigarette. “I was vaccinated before I got here. Got bit by a rabid dog back in Bucharest. His name was Charlie. Besides, even if the coyote was rabid, like you said, the fucker’s bite wouldn't be transmitting the disease until it was shedding the virus.”

“Right,” Adam said with a curt nod.  “Let's hope the coyote wasn't rabid.”

“Yeah, let's hope.” Nigel scratched the fucker behind the torn ear, relishing the gentle purr that earned him, and flashed Adam a smile. “It's a resilient little fucker, so I'm sure it'll be fine.”

Adam ducked his head, face flushing as his fingers tapped against the empty mug. “I have to go, I’ll see you around, Nigel.  Thank you again for helping me out last night, it’s nice to see that the raccoon’s doing well.”

“Any time, gorgeous,” Nigel said, resisting the urge to lift Adam’s chin so he could drink in that beautiful blush. “My door's always open for you.”

Adam looked up, giving him a tight smile and a slight wave before turning around to walk down the hall. Letting out a sigh, Nigel stood there, watching him until he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.  Butting the cigarette against the door frame, Nigel flicked it into the hallway before stepping into his apartment and kicking the door closed behind him.

“Alright, fucker,” he said, dropping it down onto the ground.  “You’re my ticket to Adam, don’t fuck this up.”

The next few days passed with relatively little word from Adam.  A few times Nigel managed to catch a glimpse of him on the way in or out, and all he could manage was a brief hello before Adam quickly scurried away.  It turned out, keeping the fucker around didn’t exactly bring Adam to his door more often, although what it did manage to do was draw the attention of every other motherfucker who lived in the apartment complex.  Luckily for him, everyone was too afraid of him to even think about reporting the fucker to animal control.

“So what’s the game plan, fucker?” Nigel said, placing a bowl of blueberries in front of the fucker.  “It’s been two weeks, you’re not dead or foaming at the mouth, and Adam has said nothing more than ‘hi’ to us. And by us, I mean me, unless you’re holding out on me.”

The fucker had the gall to look up at Nigel, shove a paw full of blueberries into his mouth and keep eating; offering nothing whatsoever to help Nigel navigate his current predicament.  Grabbing a handful of berries, Nigel had just popped a few in his mouth when the familiar rapping started at his door again.

Quickly swallowing down the fruit Nigel lept from his chair and managed to make it to the door without killing himself.  “Hello, gorgeous,” he said pulling open the door.

“Hello, Nigel,” Adam said, looking past him and into the apartment.

Nigel followed his gaze to the table where the fucker sat, shoving the last of the blueberries into its mouth before scurrying towards them. As it drew near, Nigel shouldered the door, shifting his weight to grab the fucker before it could escape, but it circumvented him, climbing up his legs instead and latched onto his back, claws digging new holes into his clothes.

“Nigel,” Adam said, dragging out his name accusingly as his eyes drifted up towards the fucker, “you weren't supposed to keep the raccoon, you know.”

“Why the fuck not, gorgeous?” Nigel asked, grabbing the fucker by its scruff to pull it off his back and into his arms. “We bonded.” As the words left his mouth, the fucker rolled in his arms and purred loudly when Nigel scratched at its belly.

Adam sighed, a warm smile gracing his face as his hand twitched at his side, in what Nigel could only assume was an effort to not reach out and join in the petting. “It's illegal to keep a raccoon as a pet in California,” he admonished softly.

“It's also illegal to sell and transport cocaine,” Nigel retorted with a grin, pushing back against the door as he took a step back and gestured for Adam to come in.

“Well, yes,” Adam said, accepting his invitation.  “But you're much more discreet about that. Besides, I'm pretty sure the raccoon gave half the building leptospirosis.”

Nigel barked out a laugh as he let the door close behind him, the fucker pulling out of his arms to climb onto Adam's lap. “It probably did. This fucker has been pissing on everyone its come in contact with. Well, everyone with the exception of you and me.”

“Oh,” Adam said, focusing his attention on the fucker as he gave it a thorough rub down.  The fucker let out a whine when Adam stopped, his mouth pulling down into a frown. “It's probably not a good idea to keep it then.”

“Why the fuck not?”

Adam pursed his lips, looking down at the fucker making itself comfortable in his lap before chancing a glance up at Nigel.  “Because it gave half the building leptospirosis.”

“Are you going to turn me in if I keep it? Adam Raki, raccoon accomplice?”

“Nigel,” Adam said, gently carding his fingers through the fucker’s fur. “If I haven't turned you in for the cocaine, I'm certainly not going to turn you in for a raccoon. Besides, he's kind of cute in that rough and destructive kind of way, you know?” Turning his attention back to Nigel, Adam smiled, fingers trailing lightly over the scar on the fucker’s side, “like you.”

Nigel gaped at Adam, momentarily unable to form a cohesive thought as he replayed what Adam just said over and over in his head. “You think I'm cute?”

Adam’s brow furrowed, the smile on his face morphing into a frown. “No, of course not Nigel. You're anything but cute.”

“Oh,” Nigel whispered, disappointment cascading over him. Sensing his distress, the fucker wriggled out of Adam’s lap and crossed over to nudged Nigel's leg with its head.

“I mean you can be endearing from time to time,” Adam said, coming to a stand, eyes following the fucker to rest on Nigel’s feet, “but certainly not cute. The raccoon is cute. Beth was cute.”

Nigel scoffed at the mention of Beth's name, suppressing a growl as the fucker hissed in his place, rising up onto its hind legs protectively in front of Nigel.

“You,” Adam continued, seemingly oblivious to the raised haunches and hissing of Nigel and the fucker, “you’re the most beautiful man I have ever met, Nigel.”

“Yeah?” Nigel breathed, deflating, he attempted a nonchalant smile. “Well, I think you're pretty gorgeous yourself.”

“Yes, I know, Nigel.” Adam said, stepping closer. “You say it a lot.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Nigel surged forward and closed the distance between them. Catching Adam by the waist, he leaned in and pressed their mouths together. When Adam exhaled a surprised 'oh,’ Nigel took the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth and deepened the kiss.  He devoured Adam’s mouth like he was a starving man, chest swelling and blood pooling south when Adam bit back; kissing him with matched intensity.

Light headed and breathless, Nigel reluctantly broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against Adam's. “I've wanted to do that for months, gorgeous.”

“So why didn't you?” Adam asked, chasing his mouth for another kiss.

“I wasn't sure you'd want to.”

“Why wouldn't I want to kiss you, Nigel?” Adam asked, pulling away slightly, brows knitted in confusion. “Is it because you’d taste like stale cigarettes?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Because you do in fact taste like stale cigarettes,” Adam pressed, “well, that and blueberries.  It’s not as offensive as I anticipated though, but I’m sure it would have be a lot worse if-”

Nigel cut him off with another kiss, needing to drown himself in Adam again.  Wrapping his arms tight around Adam, he vaguely heard the fucker chitter, feeling it brush up against them before jumping up onto the table to paw at Nigel's cigarettes.


End file.
